#god!cor

[transcendence-au]

A god alcor from memory bc i had no wifi for a weekend!

[feferipeixes]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Alcor tries to make friends with another cosmic horror.

A little crossover between TAU and CONTROL (the video game).

[etheralisi]

Tʜᴇ Dʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ Iɴ Tʜᴇ Sᴛᴀʀs

𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙴𝚗𝚍 

𝚆𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚜 

𝙸𝚗 𝙰𝚗 𝙴𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚄𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎  

 ~𝙰𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚋𝚊 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚘

-------

Some god!cor for you all.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24387511 Also available on ao3 -------

Alcor dreams.

 Long has it been since any have recalled his time as a demon, remembered one who was feared by the masses, a night time terror who asked for sweets as sacrifice, abhorred the bloodshed of children as he claimed himself as their protector. Or was, above all else, a twelve year old boy, curious towards all supernatural, unfortunate enough to fall into the clutches of a particular triangular demon.

 The twenty-first century exists nowhere but with him, hidden behind the doors of his shack, all handles worn where he’s gazed upon memories, time again and again. The triangle hardly a myth beyond the whispers of demons. Those few who remember, those wise enough not cross paths with the dreambender, daren’t invoke his name.

 Neither do they of Alcor’s. For the boy transcended has ascended even demonhood itself. A higher state of being, he reaches from eons upon eons of steady building power until the abyss of black flakes away to reveal gold, and a god emerges from a cocoon, long since having left the summoning circle behind. The god can craft reality to his whims merely by thought alone, scoop through reality as easy as the waters of a freshwater pond, let it trickle out through his fingertips, send ripples as he picks out life’s greatest treasures, shining specks of life glinting beneath the surface. Stitch its fabric together as he so sees fit, using techniques taught from the first of his Twin Stars, her guiding light as bright as ever, as even past death her soul still thrives.

 He is the shepherd to both this universe and his flock.

 Yet, he chooses to watch. To wait. To sleep.

 His very touch burns. Burns the ground where he scoops, leaves the water as steam, the pool a crater in a molten wasteland, bubbling, boiling rock that’s putty in his hands. The fabric chars, the threads slip, and the colours bleached by his sun.

 He glows gold. But no one ever told him he could glow too bright. 

 His sun blinds. 

 And so he sleeps. The universe plays out in his dreams, him, for all his power, reduced to a spectator. The universe is like glass. A shatterable, delicate, fragile thing he can yearn for but not touch.

 For he is no longer human and never can pretend as such again. There is no lie to live in anymore. He is as he is.

 For better or for worse.

 Alcor dreams. Beautiful dreams, star speckled skies, rolling hills and civilisations spread across galaxies and built up from the ground. Lustrous planets of lapping oceans, exotic and simply magical flora, languages of tongues he’s never learnt but understands every word of. 

 He sees all.

 Knows all.

 As he watches new terrains thrive, he’s witness to those which depart, of the genius loci who fade into oblivion. Planets of ash, and planets of life alike fall victim to the works of the universe, survive so long, have so much history only to be engulfed by black holes, one step into the spiralling abyss and nothing really matters. They’re wiped clean, a smear on reality’s glass, forever falling and crumbling through the vortex where even time strays from. The black holes are the end, never seen coming, never there at all.

 Where they end up is a mystery some never solve. But Alcor sees all. Knows all.

 There is no mystery in the universe to him now.

 Alcor dreams. And his dreams are of solar systems encircling their suns, their orbits their way of life. A journey planets repeat in mechanical motion as their sole purpose until their course is hindered, and paths destroyed. Planets are brought to life as they travel, crafted from those glorious burning suns so close to death, until as the eons pass, the planet strays too close to the sun, and the fire giant decimates the planet by too close an embrace.

 The universe is Alcor’s planet, and he the dying sun.

 His touch may burn, but he knows it’s nothing infinite. Nothing lasts forever, not even he.

 The god makes his decision.

 But the time is not now.

 Alcor dreams. He dreams of the stars as they implode, of dwarf stars as they snuff themselves into oblivion. Of planets as life signatures dwindle, and burn themselves out, their flames bright but candle wicks oh so short.

 There is war, and there is not. Metal husks float as derby, lost and forgotten as disregarded carcasses of battles where the victor is none. Space is a wasteland in that regard, a place for the unremembered. A graveyard of infinite stretch. There is hope, there is hopelessness and survivors, they scramble from the rubble and pull themselves up. Wounds they tend to with nurturing care, lick them clean and cling to one another, unaware of what they are survivors of. They live to see another day and work with what they have.

 Life rebuilds. It always does. Apocalypses may rain terror, but shoots and sprouts cannot be trampled. Until in the end, when the dust clears, even they are struggling.

 Nothing lasts forever. Not humanity, not Al-V. Not anything.

 It’s a cycle. The universe’s will.

 So he waits.

 Alcor dreams. And the universe scatters into thousands, tiny particles of everything and anything zooming across the vast expanse of space, its reaches infinite, its walls nonexistent, and the debris fly at a constant pace. 

 His universe crumbles, its last legs stumbling, and Alcor knows. He is ready.

 His waiting game is finally at an end.

 The god opens his eyes, gold and all seeing, awake for the first time in untold eons — there is no need for time here, not in this place where there’s an endless loop of nothing — and as he breathes, he breathes back in new life to the barren canvas.

 He is the shepherd and guides his new flock of stars. He is the visionary and sees a new world. He is the musician and lets his universe sing. He is the painter and makes it so.

 Where there was destruction, there is creation, his power melding as one. He’s supernova, brighter than bright as he sets to work, a cosmic force of unparalleled energy. He shines, and there is no one there left to blind. He paints this new world, scatters the essence of his raw power like a fine mist, gives it a life he shan’t live to see, but it doesn’t worry him.

 He’s not felt emotion in so long.

 He has not felt much of anything at all.

 Alcor is awake, but soon again he is to dream. Of a new universe, an old soul brought back anew.

 Of new hopes and dreams. Of new lives. Of his flock embracing their new existence.

 Of two Twin Stars reuniting once more.

[transcendence-au]

Why can’t Alcor send versions of himself down to earth when he´s an all-powerful god like they do in hinduism? This is hard to explain, but in hinduism, the gods sent down different avatars of themself to interact with humans. (I don´t know much about hinduism, only the stoff we learnt at school) I apologise for my english, it´s bad.

The answer to that question is probably this: it's not that Alcor can't, it's that nobody (or very few people) have considered it a possibility. It's a really interesting idea! Perhaps even fic fodder?

It likely wouldn't be exactly the same as in hinduism, but this mod can see the potential :3c

[transcendence-au]

Does God!cor have an object form too?

On one hand, probably not. His object form is something he retreats to when he is low on energy, and in his godmode form he has far, far more energy than he knows how to deal with.

On the other hand, imagining god!cor trying to coalesce himself into something small is always amusing, and I wonder if at that point he would actually feel sad about having trouble going into his object form -- a form he originally found creepy and too similar to Bill.

[transcendence-au]

Can Alcor, in godhood, still interact with souls?

Mod S here! 

If they’re in between lives, yes, absolutely, just like before. However, once the universe goes dark and there’s the period between the last star blinking out and the birth of the next universe.... then souls are asleep and it’s just Dipper and the Flock.

[transcendence-au]

The Glitter of Mable Pines

One day, after seeing Dipper's new musical talents after becoming Alcor, Mabel triesnto start a family band with Henry, Dip, herself, and anyone else she could convince. This went well until one day Mabel gets drunk and somehow manages to turn her instrument into a glitter canon. (Alcor later inspects it to try to figure out how the hell she managed that. Somehow drunk Mabel broke the laws of Physics in ways even Alcor doesn't get 10000's of years later). The glitter soon gets everywhere, and even in the very distant future, Dipper finds a piece of Mabel's glitter in his suit, no matter how many times he cleans or replaces it. Then, in the VERY distant future, it's the end of days. The univers is coming to an end, and Alcor has long been a God. In his final minutes of his life, he sees something stuck to him. A small, singular, piece if rainbow colored glitter in the shape of a star. He stares at it, and slowly cries. He remembers everything that's ever happend. All his memories, all the way back to Gravity Falls are crystal clear. He dies crying at this last ending. Now... the new universe born, and Alcor has long been dead. Life does not exist anymore anywhere. Except... one day, one day after much time has passed, a planet suitable for life forms. And slowly, from the sky, something falls on it. A tiny pine leaf from a time long forgotten... and a small, star shaped glitter.

[feferipeixes]

A star is born and Alcor becomes its friend.

This thing he once saw as so grand and immutable, so inanimate and awe inspiring, is now a peer. It has a voice, it has thoughts, it has a laugh that sends a chill down what he pretends is his spine, because he's heard that laugh before -- so, so many times before. It’s the laugh of a friend who doesn’t quite understand the joke and is too afraid to ask for an explanation, the laugh of a friend who gets you but doesn’t quite get you. It’s a laugh that Alcor is far too accustomed to, and he tries not to let it bother him.

He doesn’t have the time to let it bother him. By the time he finishes mulling these thoughts over, he’s usually alone again.

The vast starscape has become the forest behind the Mystery Shack; the quasars have become the mythical beasts he studies. His star friend can't understand why he cares about this stuff so much. It speaks to him in a language he knows intimately, a language of temperature fluctuations and solar flares like cracking whips. He tries to ignore the thought that it's such an immature way of speaking; tries to ignore the temptation to excitedly show it his conlang where he locally inverts electromagnetic laws for 100 years to communicate something as mundane as a vowel. He's very proud of his work -- he's had a long time to come up with it, after all -- and he wants to share it with his friend. It's been a long time since he's had one. But the star can't understand.

No matter how hard he tries, Dipper remains an outlier. A stranger trying to fit in with a crowd that might take pity on him but cannot truly understand him.

The star dies and it all happens in what feels to him like a human lifespan. That's when he knows he's too much for this universe. He begins looking for even grander beings to make friends with but it gets harder and harder.

A star dies. Serves him right for gesticulating too wildly while trying to explain what a “gremloblin” was.

A galaxy dies. Right in the middle of his millennia-long rendition of “Disco Girl”. He thought they were having fun together.

He snaps his fingers and crafts an entire pocket dimension. It too will die before he has the chance to feel too close to it. All he wanted was someone to play Universes, Universes and More Universes with.

By this point the glow has become too much. He's destroyed an entire star system by standing too close to it -- disintegrating it under the stress of his radiant power. He doesn't like it but Dipper Pines is rapidly becoming All and One. Stars are no longer his peers. They are far, far beneath him.

One day (year? century? eon?) his power is being absorbed by black holes in farthest reaches of space

and

then

there's nothing, just him floating in a void where Something used to be.

Dipper Pines, owner of a universe worth of energy.

Dipper Pines, a demon so twisted beyond recognition that he's almost more of a universe himself.

Dipper Pines, a lonely boy who never asked for this.

And now that he has absolutely all of the power that ever existed and ever will exist, he finally has the ability to do the one thing he never could.

Reverse entropy,

cleave the power from his soul,

funnel it into a new universe,

forget

and

be

forgotten

because he's no one now, just a soul with an affinity for magic (some things never change).

He’s in an unrecognizable world, sitting on something that’s like a bus but isn’t, flying through something that's like space but isn't, in a body that’s like a human’s but isn’t. He's with his sister, and they're hand-in-hand; well, they’re tentacle-in-tentacle, because the physical laws were a little different in this universe and evolution played out slightly differently. His sister locally inverts her electromagnetic field and then falls over laughing at her own joke. He pouts because he's trying to read and she's distracting him.

And somehow, he knows that this is all he's ever wanted.

He looks up at the sky, shielding his eyes from the brightness of the nearby star. It smiles back at him, a stranger, too far away to be known, too grand to comprehend. It looks down on this child, this being far, far below it, and then diverts its attention elsewhere, because they’re nowhere near peers.

It’s better that way.

(AO3 link)